Black Moon Draw

A flare of heat ignited at his core and flashed through him. It was followed by the sensation of the tide nipping at his boots. Sand squeezed between the fingers of the hand clasping the back of her head while a flavorful ocean breeze ruffled his hair.

The Shadow Knight opened his eyes and lifted his head, taking in the dried barnacles and seaweed scattered across the sands of a beach lining the bay. Water seeped into his boots and wet his toes.

The heat inside him subsided, and he rolled onto his side, eyes roving down the battle-witch to ensure she was unhurt. The pulsing purple light around the Heart nestled between her breasts faded as he watched, a sign he had indeed been right about triggering the magic.

He had gambled - and won. The instincts of a battle-witch were buried beneath her surface; it was her fear standing in her way from accessing it, her belief she had no power over her magic at all. Without it, when she had no time to doubt herself, the magic obeyed.

She rolled onto her stomach, coughing.

The breeches hugged her rounded hips and ass snugly, the outline of her thighs and calves hinting at their shapeliness. He had explored every inch of her while she slept, first to help put her back together and then to ensure she suffered no infection that might prevent her waking as soon as possible. Seeing the taut outline of her backside and thighs stirred the intense desire sparked by the kiss. If he had no war to fight, he would make love to her here.

"How did I . . . get sand in my mouth?" she gasped. She pulled her knees under her, ass in the air, and sat back on her heels.

His gaze went from her body to her face. She was pale where she had had a healthy radiance before. The magic took a toll on battle-witches; this much he knew.

The Shadow Knight pulled his gaze from her face reluctantly, aware he had a world to save before he dared take a moment to indulge his own urges.

"Your name is Atreyu?" She was staring at him.

"Aye." His eyes narrowed. "Why do you react this way?"

"You don't have a magic flying Luck Dragon do you?"

More of her nonsense. "Come, witch," he said and rose, holding out his hand.

She shook her head at him and ignored his outstretched arm, climbing to her feet.

"My plan was sound," he added.

"Your plan," she echoed, hands on hips. She glared up at him. "The one involving letting us both die in the slim hope my magic worked?"